


Together

by limitthesky



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, Mild Language, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 06:47:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4212024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limitthesky/pseuds/limitthesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We need to talk about Agent Washington..." <br/>(pre-episode s13/ep9)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together

There were a handful of pirates and the odd convict who paused in their work to look forward, possibly too curious for their own good. Felix’s voice had a way of traveling. Catching your attention across a room where at the “big boy’s table” Locus met with his comrade. Their scrawny little shrink who had done little more than unnerve the fellow criminals and criminals for pay watched on. Lingering along the edge of a room like an accessory. Holding the same interested look many of the crew members hide beneath their visors.

 

“I don’t believe we do.” Locus answered in kind, returning his gaze to the holographic map. Their intended terrain in bright green guidelines and sculpted mountains of light. No one moved. Even “Sharkface” found himself still as he watched his new employers, carefully settled at Price’s right. Out of the range of fire…just in case. It didn’t take long for him to learn the pecking order here. The men followed Locus proudly, but were each afraid of Felix. Best to stand back and let the mercenaries work things out.

 

“I believe, we do. Namely, you know he’s going to be there.” Their own world sprouted around them like a glass dome piecing itself back together. They were alone in a crowded room-only acknowledging one another as they were apt to do. Fascinating to watch, Price made notes in his mind with the ease of a sigh. Making sure to imprint to memory how Felix’s right eye flinched and Locus’ breath took a sharp turn. “Your cute game of cat and mouse? It’s over. I need to know you can pull the trigger when the time comes.”

 

“Are you doubting me?” Locus’ voice was heavy. Matched only in anger by the fall of his brow, scarred skin wrinkled at the motion and he slowly became something most of the pirates would rather not see. It was almost clockwork. The mercenary’s frown, the men taking a loud step backwards. So few had seen Felix and Locus argue-but those who had? The ones unlucky enough to find themselves dead center of a lover’s spat? None of them ever doubted they were weaker men than the two guns for hire.

 

“I’m not doubting you, just your conviction. It seems to be, ooooh,” Felix’s sarcasm was painted within a gaudy song. Hands grabbing the air “searching” for the right word to spit at his partner. The hologram table flickered and died at his absence and dark terrible eyes were stitched to his partner’s skin. “We’ll say…”lacking” as of late.” He smiled. Horrible and bright. Only killers would see it as a threat.

 

“I think this is a conversation we should be having. Alone.” Locus’ own expression fell to something unreadable. Professional. Almost bored though Sharkface felt a certain dread come over him. Where Felix was wild and like an animal standing on two legs, Locus was cold and efficient. If a fight broke out between the two, he didn’t doubt the casualties would be great.

 

“Are you two really going to whine at each other like little dogs?” Sharkface spoke up and found himself the target of two very well equipped sets of glares . The same sensation of danger, a warning sign in the low beat of drums against his pulse returned. He wasn’t afraid. No. So few things could make him afraid anymore…but somehow…The men watching him like monsters under the bed made him feel fragile as a thought.

 

“Hey. Sweetie.” Felix retained his diamond sharp smile. “Why don’t you take your brothers and sisters-and skedaddle. The adults have to talk.” It took little more than that to encourage the pirates to leave. Some even playing hero when they snatched a convict by the wrist and tugged them along. Quick to scatter like the fearful children they were compared to. Sharkface withheld a scowl and a complaint. No use trying to trying reason with the mercenaries. He’d heard rumors, gossip. How Locus left the Freelancer alive. How he failed to finish the job. All from weaker men stumbling to curry favor with someone they viewed as stronger, more powerful. Much like parasites cling to the underbelly of a predator. Sharkface had to assume that’s how these two men managed to maintain control over their subordinates. Obey. Or be eaten alive.

Natural order of things.

Price might have managed to remain forgotten had Locus not directed his attention to the quiet man. Silent, patient until their resident shrink sighed and relinquished his position in the dark. Walking in step with Sharkface who made certain to cast a heavy roll of eyes at the dramatics. Felix didn’t miss it, even gave a double click of his tongue and a playful wink just to insult him further. There were betters things to be doing than wasting time playing the jealous lover, but Sharkface had no authority here. Not over the two creaturecs now alone in the room.

 

“Is there something you need to say to me now that we’re alone?” Locus made his displeasure known in the weight of his voice, fist tight against the display console as he waited for Felix’s answer.

 

“Oh, I didn’t need to be alone. You’re the shy one here. I’m perfectly capable calling you out in front of an audience.”

 

“You don’t think treating me like some weak link in front of our men might cause a problem?”

 

“Not when you’re acting like one.”

 

Locus suddenly longed for the security of his helmet. There, Felix couldn’t reach him, couldn’t thin his eyes at Locus’ each and every crack in expression. Wouldn’t be able to take a step forward into his space with all the confidence in the world. Beneath his armor, Felix could only scream at a steel wall and nothing would come of it. Instead, Felix has the upper hand. Instead, Felix is the one-bare faced and exposed-but more secure than any soldier Locus has ever met.

 

“I will kill him.”

 

“Will you?” His partner laughed as if spitting. “You didn’t before and you stopped me from gutting that little fuck.” There was a special pain Felix had in store for Tucker. Anger fueled only further by missed opportunities. “I could have broken their hearts at least and you played bitch to an order we were never given. We lost because of that.”

 

“You’re the one who sang our hand.” Locus reminded and watched the shadows fall against Felix’s eyes like a tripped curtain. “When the time is right, I will kill him.”

 

“But you didn’t before.” Felix hissed. “You were busy playing with yourself. And I don’t mean in the fun way I like to watch. You lost yourself in him. I saw it.” Biting his own lip as nails scrapped the console. Desperately seeking a certain relief. “I don’t like the way you look at him. It’s like you’re waiting for a point to be made.”

 

“What do you know of it?” Locus’ voice broke. A quick rise in tone so unlike the patient man. Regretting it instantaneously when the burden of Felix’s grin was left to his shoulders.

 

“Oh darlin,”

 

Felix called him that that first time they met. Young men then. Felix already blood thirty and furious. Locus, trying to understand what squeezing a trigger actually meant. He was called an assortment of names until finally known as “Locus” in the end. Somehow the endearment plucked at his calm.

 

“Don’t call me that. You don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

 

“HAH!” Hysterical squawk of a laugh followed by Felix’s hands on his biceps well guarded by armor. “Locus. Babe. We’ve been together for nearly half our lives. I know every deep dark crevice of your thoughts. Me? You? I could make Price cream himself with what insight I have on your mind’s inner clock—so don’t dismiss me.” There was true insult in his tone where Felix only ever seemed bored or annoyed. He took the brush off personally. “So let me tell you something, Locus. I know what you see when you look at your precious Agent Washington.”

 

“Stop.” He warned but Felix’s lip only curled as he kept on.

 

“Fuck, I’m the one who got him back in the gray armor. I gift wrapped him for you because you practically jacked off to his personal files Hardgrove dealt us. And you fucked that up.”

 

“Felix.” The second warning fell on dead ears as his partner took another daring step forward, crowding Locus against the console’s edge. Trapping him there so long as the man didn’t feel the need to fight.

 

“I know what you want to see. You want to prove you had no choice. That he’s just like you were. That he’ll become something just as empty and cold as you, but you know what? He’s not you.”

 

“Keep out of this.”

 

The last time he’d struck Felix was five years, two months and seven days ago. He broke his partner’s jaw and left him unconscious on their chambers floor. Felix woke up an hour later and stabbed him in the shoulder with a canteen fork to even the score. If he violated their partnership like that again, Locus was sure to wake up without a right hand.

But still he felt himself tempted with the urge to derail this conversation with violence.

“Locus,” He let himself remain caged by the man’s body. Let his arms fall to Felix’s control despite the man’s feet being too far apart and how exposed he’d left himself. It would be easy to break free, escape, but he refused. Kept silent. “Locus. Agent Washington is not you.” A sharp sound fell through his ears, trying to ignore what Felix was saying. Fighting with the moments when he saw himself wearing gray and gold armor-learned about himself from the detailed files on the Agent. Naive and hopeful. Praying he could remain innocent through the bloodshed only to look in the mirror and see a different man one day.

 

“How can you be so sure?”

 

“Because you’re not going to die.” Felix’s voice might have scared any other, but to Locus it felt like a promise in a dark place. “Locus, you might see that weak little shit you once were in Washington but I swear to you, he’s not strong enough to be you. He’d break if he had to make the decisions we made. He would fall apart if put in your steps.”

 

Weaker than him? Was it possible?

 

Felix made himself home resting against Locus’ armor. Taking advantage of the stillness to bring hands against his pulse, smooth a pattern down his throat despite the under-layer protecting Locus from anything more than the sensation of his partner’s loving touch. Felix knew how to feed him kindness, to supply him with tailored affection in a time of need. Their years together, their becoming all filtered into a gentle affection as simple as this.

 

“Kill Agent Washington. And maybe you’ll finally be free of it.”

 

“It?”

 

“You know.” Felix’s tongue darted out, a childish tease before dark eyes shone playful and calm once more. The greater storm had passed and they returned to equal ground. “You’re everything he’s too weak to become. You know that. So kill him. Prove you’re better, and put that ghost to bed.”

 

Locus didn’t need to hold his partner’s body. Wasn’t required to return the affection. Felix had always been quick to take what he wanted. Evened their heights by a demanding tug of long hair-kiss Locus with a knock of teeth and greedy tongue. They could remain that way for hours, and had done so before. Peaceful for a breath despite their fabricated war brooding in the outside world like a terrible child screaming for attention.

Still. It was a nice kiss.

Once parted, Felix smacked Locus against the mouth with his palm and it almost hurts. Better than how the man used to flirt: namely a rock in Locus’ canteen or shooting him in the foot. It almost feels like their world is slowly coming back together.

 

“Kill Agent Washington.” Felix repeats and it becomes gospel. “You told me once, we’re going to kill them, All of them. Keep your promise Locus. We have a future you and I.” Amazing how it’s Felix needing to comfort Locus. How things change, how well they share their burdens even after all these years…

 

“We have a plan.”

 

“It’s a good plan.”

 

“And we’re pretty damn spectacular too.”

 

“Together?”

 

Their hands met, more intimate than a kiss could mean. Clasping in agreement between them.

 

“Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> I never edit/beta anything so forgive any mistakes or mispellings.
> 
>  
> 
> mercemonster/tumblr/com


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